


Nine-Fifty Six on a Tuesday

by i_amtheoutlaw



Series: On a Tuesday [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fingering, Knotting, M/M, Mating, Nipple Play, One Shot, Oral Sex, and he’s bottoming, and maybe, confused and lovestruck!derek, it’s Stiles b-day, just maybe some, lots and lots of, oh yeah and there will a KNOT, sterek, virgin!stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 06:53:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1848580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_amtheoutlaw/pseuds/i_amtheoutlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles turns eighteen in three minutes and twenty-four seconds and he bets that not a single person could guess where he’s standing right now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nine-Fifty Six on a Tuesday

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta read. First time trying the whole knot deal as well.

When Stiles checked the silently ticking timer on his phone it read that he would turn eighteen in three minutes and thirty two seconds. Thirty one. Thirty.

Stiles sighed silently and ran a hand over his face then checked the timer again.

It now read that Stiles turned eighteen in three minutes and twenty four seconds and he nearly let loose a hysterical snort but thought better of it last second. Stiles could hardly believe where he stood and he bet that not a single person could guess where he was standing . . . three minutes and twenty seconds before he turned eighteen.

His dad certainly didn't. No. When Stiles bounded out of the house thirty minutes before he turned eighteen, his dad had only stopped Stiles to tell him not to spend all his money on lottery tickets.

_Friggin’ lottery tickets._

Stiles couldn’t bring himself to feel bad. His dad should’ve already knew Stiles had an, um, _agenda_. When didn’t Stiles have one?

Neither did Stiles' best friend though, when he pulled up twenty-eight minutes before Stiles turned eighteen with a present strapped to the back of his bike and a crooked grin plastered across his face.

Stiles had to assure Scott that no, he wasn't going to a strip club without him. Never would. Even if it was a gay one. Definitely if it was a gay one. Before Stiles ripped open his present and cooed over how amazing his best friend was for five minutes, then pushed Scott back on his bike and told him that they'd hangout later.

Scott looked a little questioning under his hurt, like he still wasn't sure if Stiles was lying and sneaking off with Danny to go to a strip club without him.

Stiles let Scott think whatever he'd wanted, because Stiles had no way to explain why he was going to where he actually was . . . two minutes and eleven seconds before he turned eighteen.

Because, yeah. He was there. Just standing there . . . at the foot of Derek Hale’s bed.

_Derek Hale’s bed._

The bed, of course, where Derek laid then . . . mere minutes before Stiles turned eighteen. Stiles blamed his amazing, beautiful, saint of a mother just a little bit for the unfortunate timing. However, he found the grudge didn’t hold. It wasn't like she knew that one day, eighteen years in the future, her new baby boy would be trying to hook up with the hottest, fangiest, sourest thing to ever prowl the face of the earth. Besides, it could have been just as easily his father’s fault for going into law enforcement. Or, Stiles supposed, it could very well be Derek’s fault for being an old, grumpy man. But probably not, Stiles' mind added in hastily. All that man-scruff was like a gift from the Gods.

These thoughts brought Stiles back to the werewolf in question. Derek, who was halfway tucked under the covers, shirtless, and star-fished across the mattress showing off an impressive amount of abs. The slight flush of his cheeks had Derek looking a little hot, definitely ruffled up by sleep, and absolutely delicious.

Stiles sucked in a deep breath at the words that had just rolled through his mind and, of course, that was when Derek’s eyes flew open.

And . . . if the look that was on Derek’s face was anything to go by then Stiles was three for three. 

If it was any other situation, then Stiles would’ve been cracking up at the range of sour expressions that ate their way across Derek’s face within the next few seconds.

Derek managed a glare that was both menacing and angry. A look that meant ‘I’m utterly confused’ in Derek lingo, Stiles' brain helpfully supplied before his muscles had time to react on their own accord and flinch away. At Stiles continued stillness, Derek did that ridiculous brow thing, then he just glared harder and barked out, “what the hell are you doing here, Stiles?”

And fuck--what the fuck was that? Stiles wondered frantically. He thought that the two of them had like, a thing. Y’know, like it was just one of those like, somethings. And Stiles knew that they had it. They had something.

Still, Stiles almost gave it all up then and there, because despite how much Stiles tried, he didn’t actually have iron balls. And standing in front of Derek Hale’s bed like some kind of virgin sacrifice was probably the scariest thing Stiles had ever done in his entire life. A life, he reminded himself, which was overflowing with scary ass shit. So, yeah. Stiles almost let himself babble out something about needing Derek’s help, immediately, with some kind of magical disaster in the forest, but stopped the words short as they licked at his lips because he realized something. 

Maybe Derek didn’t know that it was Stiles’ birthday.

“Um,” Stiles started, and _great_ , he thought. Just _smooth_. “It’s—ah—it’s my birthday.”

Derek just raised one sleepy eyebrow in his direction and said, “I know, but what are you doing . . .”

Derek trailed off and his angry expression was replaced with a totally blank one that Stiles couldn’t read. Stiles felt his stomach grow heavy as it knotted with uncertainty and he wanted to run from the room, because he suddenly felt completely and utterly stupid.

Because why would Derek want him? There wasn’t anything between them. Let alone _something._

Stiles was just so . . . uhhh, and Derek, he was just so ahhhhsdkafhb times twenty-five.

“You mean,” Derek started and then coughed a little as sat up, “you mean, you’re—ah—you’re here _because_ it’s your birthday?”

Derek’s face was still perfectly blank as he spoke and Stiles found he had no clue how he should answer the question.

The truth was that yes, Stiles was there because he was eighteen . . . but mostly because he wanted to have sex with Derek. How was one supposed to tell somebody that without sounding . . . well, desperate? Stiles wondered, because he really wasn’t desperate anymore, per say. He just thought that that something would be like, mutual once he turned eighteen. Y’know, that mutual something that it seemed had turned out to be a one-sided nothing.

“Right . . .” Stiles said and then he almost let himself blurt out something about circumcised penises for a second, because his brain literally felt fried. And, yep, Stiles reasoned. That was probably because he wasn’t breathing. Stiles sucked in a breath and words fell out with his shaky exhale, “I mean, well, it’s just that—y’know—Australia?”

“Australia?” Derek drawled.

“Yeah,” Stiles started and he nodded his head like he actually had a clue what Australia had to do with his current predicament. It was actually just something that he’d blurted out at random, but Derek didn’t necessarily need to know that. “Y’know, they have the koalas and the kang—oh! I read this amazing screen play last night online and it was about zombie, mutant kangaroos—”

“Stiles,” Derek barked and Stiles mouth snapped shut. “What do you want from me?”

“Nothing,” Stiles immediately spat, because it was nothing, right? “I mean, well, I guess I wanted _something_ . . . everything . . . um, anything? I—ah—I don’t really care at this point. Just to not be standing here anymore would be like, the best birthday present ever—”

Stiles yelped. Sue him, okay? He was allowed to yelp when Derek Hale literally leapt off the bed toward him and –and –and—

_Woah._

Stiles was allowed to yelp when Derek leapt up and kissed him apparently, because those were warm, chapped lips against his own and that was a really, really firm body that pressed against him, and shit. Derek was fucking kissing him and Stiles’ lips really needed to get with the fucking program, _because Derek Hale was fucking kissing him._

On the mouth!

Stiles reached up, grabbed Derek by the face, and deepened their kiss. Holy shit, Stiles’ mind moaned loudly at the discovery. It totally wasn’t Derek’s fault. None of it. Ever. And, fuck yes! That scruff was friggin’ _divine._

“God,” Derek groaned as he broke their kiss and buried his face in Stiles’ neck. “I knew it, nothing can shut you up.”

“Nughh,” was Stiles’ immediate response because Derek was doing something ridiculous and scratchy and suction-y to his neck, but then—wait, what? Stiles wondered as Derek’s words caught up with him. Stiles started to protest, “I wasn’t—”

“ _You were._ ” Derek growled and in a flash of movement Stiles was suddenly flat against the bed with Derek on top of him. The werewolf had somehow managed to stay face first in Stiles’ neck and as Derek spoke the heated breath behind the words tickled along his throat, “You think my scruff is a gift from the Gods.”

That was true, Stiles very much did, but he suddenly got a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach and had to push Derek back so he could look him in the eyes.

“I don’t—I mean—I don’t think you’re hot,” Stiles started, _greatly_ , he might add. “Well, duh, you’re fucking gorgeous. I just mean, well. I don’t just want _this_ per say . . .” Stiles trailed off and ran his hands down the sides of Derek’s body before he continued, “more like, something else.”

“Something else?” Derek asked and Stiles could feel him tensing up.

“Like, something, let’s say . . .” Stiles had to look away. He pointed his gaze down between their bodies where Derek’s naked chest still pressed against his t-shirt. Stiles suddenly realized how his actions could be seen. Stiles just showing up like that. In Derek’s bedroom. In front of his bed. And honestly, Stiles wasn’t going for the whole one night stand, virgin sacrifice. More like . . . hell, Stiles didn’t know. Like, the life kind? Stiles pondered for a second. What were those kind of virgin sacrifices called again? Giving in to the only word that trailed through his mind, Stiles muttered, “Something, like a relationship?”

Derek sucked in a surprised breath at the admission and Stiles’ eyes snapped back up to Derek’s face, but he couldn’t read it. Stiles had no clue what Derek was thinking.

But then he . . . then Derek nodded and started kissing Stiles again. And really, Stiles only had enough willpower to push Derek away the one time.

Stiles—he hoped silently—worked over the fact that Derek Hale basically just agreed to be in a relationship with him as the werewolf in question bit at his bottom lip and started to pepper rough kisses down his throat.

God, Stiles’ mind burst as he was overwhelmed with both sensations and emotions. He was the truly luckiest eighteen year old alive.

Derek paused suddenly with his head hovering right above Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles felt as if time stopped when he realized what Derek was doing. Long inhales washed over the otherwise silent room and Stiles’ felt like he could feel his scent pulling away from his skin as it curled up Derek’s nose. Seconds seemed to stretch into minutes as worry ate away at Stiles’ mind. He thought of all the things that Derek could have been smelling: sweat, adderall, plasticy bar soap, sweat, and that damn chemistry assignment he’d managed to blow up all over himself the day before. Stiles’ brain was still in a whirl when Derek nuzzled in close. Worry floated away and Stiles preened under feel of Derek’s coarse scruff rubbing against his sensitive skin. Derek slowed his nuzzling and dragged out a long sniff up the length of Stiles’ neck. It ended right behind Stiles’ ear and Derek paused briefly before he roughly nuzzled in again.

“Your scent,” Derek breathed against his neck. “God, Stiles.”

Stiles snorted. He couldn’t help it. He would always laugh when one of the wolfs did something especially wolf-y. Besides, what else was he to say or do? Getting praise from Derek, even regarding his smell, made Stiles feel too extraordinarily messy inside.

Derek stopped nuzzling and glared at Stiles, but his face morphed into something wicked ridiculously fast. Stiles barely had time to worry before Derek had ripped Stiles’ t-shirt off of him and crashed their bare chests together. Stiles only had a second to enjoy the heat that had suddenly cocooned him before Derek shuffled down and took one of Stiles’ nipples into his mouth.

And Stiles was sure his brain was no longer functioning.

Yeah, Stiles knew he had sensitive nips, alright? He’d done some experimental tweaking after all. Stiles knew that they sometimes tingled in a way that shot pleasure straight to his dick. However, Stiles usually had to try hard to get worked up enough for that. Derek’s mouth, though, was a totally a different story.

For one, it wasn’t his own hand. For two, it was a mouth. And for three, it was Derek Hale’s fucking mouth.

Stiles cried out. The sound was broken and needy even to his own ears that weren’t quite functioning properly over the sound of his beating heart. He couldn’t imagine what the sound was like ringing out in Derek’s super ears. Stiles couldn’t dwell too much on that thought because then Derek started doing that ridiculous, scratchy, suction-y thing to his nipple.

Derek’s head stayed chest level with Stiles for what felt like hours. Derek was just sucking and licking and nibbling at his nipples. He never gave one of them more attention than the other and he stopped every so often to drag his rough face against Stiles’ chest as he switched.

Stiles absently started rutting against Derek’s heavy weight on top of him and couldn’t even find the sense to feel embarrassed about how fast he was losing it. Derek really didn’t seem to mind anyway, if the heated look he kept throwing at Stiles through those God damn lashes was anything to go by.

Derek finally tore himself away from Stiles chest and shuffled back a little bit, and then sat up. Stiles was awestruck as he stared up at Derek.

The wolf looked a beautiful, beautiful, hot mess. Stiles couldn’t even blink against the mind burning sight because he found that he really wanted that image seared into his brain until the end of time. Derek was so fucking fit, had muscles bulging everywhere, but that was nothing new. No, Stiles had long since accomplished the art of not melting into a pile of goo at the sight of Derek flexing. The muscles were not the problem. Or was it a not-problem? Stiles wondered. Definitely a not-problem, Stiles answered himself a moment later as he continued to take Derek in . . . but what did they call those things again? Gifts?

Yeah, Stiles thought. Derek’s black boxer briefs were definitely some kind of gift.

Most likely from the Gods.

Stiles hadn’t a clue how he didn’t notice them before. They were so sung, rested low on Derek’s hips, and showed off a saintly amount of dark hair that trailed downward—

And holy fucking shit, that was Derek’s cock—no, Stiles rephrased—that was Derek’s fucking hard on. The member just there, trapped beneath the fabric, all thick and full and—

Derek pulled Stiles from his thoughts as he spread his legs further and dropped his ass lower on Stiles’ hips. A strong thigh locked Stiles in on both sides. Derek’s hands found Stiles’ chest and he lightly let his fingers trail downward, stopped once he reached hips to trace around some of Stiles’ moles, and then repeated the action a few more times.

Stiles couldn’t help but buck up into Derek as the wolf’s hands paused over his nipples and gave them both equally light flicks.

“God, Stiles,” Derek growled and Stiles’ eyes snapped up to Derek’s face. The wolf looked edgy and on the brink of something. “Look at you.”

“No thanks,” Stiles managed as Derek continued to flick at his nipples. Derek intently watched as Stiles couldn’t stop himself from writhing against the bed. “Rather look at you, big guy.”

Derek smiled. The grin was all hot and heated and wanting, but it was still there and Stiles revealed in it. Derek Hale—sour wolf—smiling just for him.

Then Derek pinched down on Stiles’ nipples briefly and Stiles moaned and whined at the same time as all train of thought was lost. Derek didn’t even give him a second to recover, just started pinching and flicking at Stiles’ nipples nonstop until Stiles was a complete mess under him.

That was, of course, when Derek so kindly bent down and sucked one of them up, hard, and dragged it between his teeth—

And, yep. Stiles was done for. If he was capable of thinking of a word that meant beyond done, he would have used it. 

Stiles rutted up into Derek as his orgasm fled through him. It made him writhe against Derek as the wolf rolled the sensitive skin through his teeth and finally let it drop. Then Stiles stilled and was spilling inside his boxers—and—and—oh shit, his jeans.

Stiles just came in his fucking jeans, and yeah, he should have been more mortified, but he couldn’t bring himself to care under the feeling of pure bliss that engulfed him.

The pleasure calm was broken as Derek suddenly stilled in a not sexy way, sat back up, and checked Stiles over.

“Did you just . . ?” Derek started to ask, but then he trailed off, eyes blown wide, nostrils flaring.

“Oh shit,” Stiles groaned. “I’m sorry—ahh—”

Words were lost as Derek rolled off Stiles’ legs and ripped his jeans off in one swift motion. Literally. Stiles wasn’t kidding. There were claws involved. Then Derek bent down, stuck his nose in Stiles’ ruined boxers, and breathed in deeply. Stiles didn’t even have a second to feel self-conscious, before Derek tore those off, too, and had exposed Stiles’ softening dick to the world around them.

And yep, Stiles’ had time to feel self-conscious about that, because Stiles was a grower not a show-er, okay? And from what he’d seen so far, Derek was fucking hung.

Stiles was shocked to find that Derek wasn’t even looking at him anymore and was instead shoving the remnants of Stiles’ boxers in his face and moaning loudly. Then it seemed that he was about to--yes. Then Derek . . . licked them. Quite a few times.

“And I knew it, you taste so fucking good,” Derek groaned as the boxers were tossed aside. “Fuck, Stiles. So fucking good.”

Then Derek batted Stiles’ hands away from his own crotch and bent down and yeah. 

Derek _licked_ at the mess of cum that was smeared across Stiles’ lower belly and pubes. He licked it up and moaned against Stiles’ skin all the while.

Stiles didn’t care how spent his dick seemed, he could have just laid fifty out and his dick would still twitch with interest at the sight of Derek doing that. He would still harden under the feel of Derek’s warm, and frankly greedy, tongue lapping up his cum.

Derek didn’t stop until Stiles was completely clean and even then he looked ridiculously grumpy that there wasn’t more. He glared up at Stiles like it was his fault.

“Hey,” Stiles said as he swatted at Derek playfully. “Maybe I’d like a chance to lick up some cum too.”

Derek’s eyebrows shot up and Stiles honestly didn’t know why the fuck he was suddenly blushing. Derek had just lapped at him like Stiles was his favorite dessert or something. So Stiles was allowed to say things like that now, damn it, and he didn’t need to blush about it.

“Hm,” Derek hummed thoughtfully and licked at his own bottom lip. “But then I won’t know what it smells like inside of you.”

Stiles didn’t have a chance to answer because Derek was looking complete fucking lost—or horrified with himself or possibly mortified—and then tumbled onto the bed next to Stiles and pulled Stiles close until they were kissing again.

It was slower this time, but somehow it was still sloppier. Stiles was slowly losing his mind to arousal all over again as Derek shoved his tongue into Stiles’ mouth and Stiles tasted himself all over it.

Stiles let Derek use his mouth, and lazily nipped and tugged at Derek’s lips when he got the chance until he was fully hard again. Stiles had a sudden urge to just wrap himself around Derek’s body and cling, but then he remembered something really important.

Derek was still wearing his briefs.

And that just wouldn’t do.

Stiles timidly reached down and ran four fingers across Derek’s hardness. Stiles smiled into the kiss as Derek shuddered against him and moaned into his mouth. Feeling encouraged, Stiles found Derek’s waist band and went for it. He grabbed up Derek’s thick cock, stroked, and only stopped at the tip to thumb at Derek’s wet slit.

“Shit,” Derek hissed and broke their kiss to look down at Stiles’ hand.

Stiles stroked it a few more times, then let go and grabbed at Derek’s waistband. Stiles was ready to tear the offending pieces of shit off, but then Derek grabbed his wrist and Stiles whole body stilled.

Derek just pressed a wet, chaste kiss to his mouth and pulled back to look Stiles in the eye.

“You sure?” Derek asked, then his eyebrows knitted together adorably. “I mean, do you—ah—do you really want me to fuck you?”

Stiles moaned and bucked up into Derek. He couldn’t help it. Stiles knew by that strange, little, hopeful spark that he saw in Derek’s eye that the wolf was deadly serious, but Jesus. Stiles just came in his fucking pants from Derek sucking on his nipples, and the wolf thought he could honestly just say things like that without Stiles losing his fucking mind.

Well, he couldn’t. That was just fucking ridiculous.

“Mm’not ridiculous.” Derek glared. “You’re ridiculous. Never can just answer a fucking question. Never shutting up.”

Stiles started to protest, “I didn’t say—”

“You did,” Derek growled, then pressed a few hard kisses to Stiles’ lips before he suddenly pushed away and got off the bed.

Stiles whined and leaned up so he could see what Derek was doing. Although, his reaction time must have been slower than he thought, because he blinked and Derek suddenly stood at the foot of the bed, and had tossed something onto Stiles’ chest.

Stiles looked down at the condom and small packet of lube then looked back up to Derek—

Derek, who was stepping out of his boxers and standing back up straight again. His thick, reddened cock bounced between his legs.

“Oh shit, Derek,” Stiles breathed. “You’re so, so, _justfreakingprefect._ Like, I can’t even—”

Derek was suddenly on looming over him and was pushing his legs apart so he could get in between them. He stroked Stiles’ hardness a few times before he let it go and grabbed up the lube and condom.

Derek tore open the condom with his teeth and started to put it on, and as Stiles thought about what it would feel like to have Derek bare inside him, he finally realized what was so wrong with that whole deal.

“Dude,” Stiles said as he slapped at Derek’s busy hands. “What the fuck? I don’t have anything. And even if I did, you’d only get sick for like, ten minutes or something.”

Derek got that sort of lost look again, and his eyes went back and forth between the condom and Stiles’ face a few times before he spoke, “you . . . shouldn’t get into a habit.”

Stiles laughed. “Okay, big guy, I’ll keep that in mind if I ever plan on fucking someone who isn’t you.”

Derek’s eyes grew wide and Stiles belatedly realized what he’d just said, and he tried to fix it, “I mean, I’ll like, y’know, keep it in mind if I ever don’t have sex with—ah—werewolf or whatever.”

For a second Derek stayed blank and Stiles couldn’t tell if he was planning on protesting, but he finally threw the condom aside and leaned down to kiss Stiles again.

Stiles whined when Derek broke free from his mouth but quickly shut up as he realized that Derek was shuffling down his body and was—oh God—licking a long, wet stripe up his cock. Stiles’ hands fisted themselves in the sheets and he tried to keep still, but it was a lost cause when Derek wrapped one hand around his base and sank down onto his cock, mouth first.

Stiles couldn’t really do anything besides thoroughly enjoy it and try not to kick Derek in the face with his flailing, shocked limbs.

Stiles was faintly aware of Derek moving around down there, but it wasn’t until a lubed up finger pressed between his cheeks and circled his hole, did Stiles figure out why.

Derek kept sucking as he pressed into Stiles third knuckle deep. He started to pump in and out slowly at a pace that made Stiles preen. It didn’t help that Derek slowed down his bobbing head and swallowed down Stiles’ dick in time with the thrusts of his finger.

Derek was quick to add a second finger. He shortly slid the new one in a few times before he pressed deep down to the last knuckles again. Stiles was grateful. The burn of being stretched calmed him a bit and pulled him further from the edge, which he needed. Bad. 

The burn faded quickly though and Stiles could feel himself building up again, but then Derek pressed a third finger against his entrance and on the next thrust he shoved them all as deep as they would go.

It stung, bad, but it was just what Stiles needed. Either that, or he was gonna have to get Derek’s mouth off of his dick somehow.

And Stiles could deal with so much more if it meant he got to keep Derek’s perfect lips wrapped around his cock.

Besides, Stiles didn’t think Derek would appreciate having to take Stiles’ cock out of his mouth. If the way Derek greedily sucked it up and moaned around it was anything to go by.

A short time later even three got too familiar inside Stiles, and he rocked back trying to find the burn again. He couldn’t. Even when Derek started to scissor Stiles open with all three fingers, he could only hang on to the pain for a second before pleasure flooded his senses again.

“Der,” Stiles whined and slapped at Derek’s bobbing head. “Der, Der, Jesus fuck, I’m ready. So ready. Fuck.”

Derek pulled off with an obscene popping noise and for second it looked like Derek was going to smirk, but whatever he saw when he looked at Stiles caused the expression to fall off his face and he moaned instead.

“Gonna fuck you so good,” Derek said and pumped his fingers hard into Stiles’ hole a few times for emphasis.

Derek kept his fingers in Stiles and only faltered a few times as he popped open the lube one-handed and poured a long line of it across his cock. It was only when Derek got Stiles just how he wanted him--with his legs spread, one of them stretched over Derek’s shoulder, and the other bent up by Stiles’ chest--did Derek remove his fingers.

Derek’s cock was right there as soon as they were gone, lined up with his hole, and felt all hot and hard and thick. Derek wiped his slippery hand off on the sheets then used it to push Stiles’ leg back further, so Stiles’ ass was basically up in the air even though he still laid on his back. Derek’s other hand was wrapped around his own cock and helpfully flicked his dick over Stiles’ opening a few times.

Stiles groaned and clinched around nothing, feeling so open and needy and ready for it.

Then . . . Derek pressed. And wow, yeah, that hurt. Stiles mind flashed with the realisation. It hurt a lot. Stiles felt himself tense but couldn’t force his muscles to relax.

“Shhh,” Derek hummed. He brought a hand up to Stiles’ cheek and thumbed at it, but Derek didn’t stop pressing. He just kept going long and slow until he was flush against Stiles’ stretched out ass.

Derek didn’t try to move anymore and Stiles was grateful, because he felt like he might actually rip in half if Derek so much as twitched. There was hardness so deep inside of him. Stiles was so, so full and Derek’s thick cock only seemed to expand as it pressed firmly against all of his walls.

Derek whimpered and Stiles’ pinched eyes instantly flew open to look at him, because Derek sounded wounded. As Stiles took the sight of the wolf in, he didn’t necessarily think that Derek looked wounded though. No. He looked . . . fucking amazing.

Derek wasn’t even fully wolfed out, but Stiles had never seen him look so utterly primal before. He looked like Stiles’ ass was wrecking him . . . in a good way though. One fang hung out over his bottom lip, and when Derek finally opened his eyes and met Stiles’ gaze, his eyes were burning a bright blue.

“Sti—Stiles,” Derek growled, but it was nowhere near deep and threatening. “I think—I can’t—are you— _what_ is even happening—”

Derek slammed his eyes closed again and growled out, “Stop—st— _stop_ —don’t look at me like that or I’m gonna—ah—just fuck you.”

Derek’s hand fell from Stiles’ face then and he leaned down and pressed his forehead against Stiles’ own.

And yeah, Stiles brain flashed warningly again. He hadn’t thought about the pain since he looked at Derek, but with the movement Derek’s cock shifted inside him and the burn in his ass flared up hot again.

“Ahh,” Stiles grunted while he grabbed Derek by the hips to still him. “Hold up, big guy, just—ah—hold on a minute.”

“But,” Derek whined and his hot breath against Stiles’ cheek made him shiver. “ _You’re so good, and I knew it._ ”

Stiles smiled against Derek’s face when he finally got it.

He’d literally broken Derek Hale.

It was up to Stiles, he had to make sure they both got through it in one piece. And if that wasn’t a fucking terrifying discovery to make with Derek’s cock already base-deep in his ass . . . despite how much Stiles liked the idea of being in charge.

He was getting used to it though, he realized. The pain was still there, but it was more of a steady throb at this point. Although, Stiles’ dick was definitely flagging, so he decided that he should start with trying to fix that problem. He moved one of his hands off of Derek’s hip and reached between their bodies. Stiles grabbed up his softening length and stroked. At the movement, Derek opened his eyes and looked down.

“Stiles—I’m—I’m sorry,” Derek started, but Stiles silenced him with a kiss, because this whole ordeal might have happened completely different than Stiles’ ever imagined it, but that didn’t make it any less awesome.

Stiles loved bossing Derek around anyway.

The kissing and stroking had Stiles hard again fast and he pushed back into Derek, and let go of Derek’s hips altogether.

“I’m ready,” Stiles whispered.

And holy fuck. How did Stiles ever think that he was the one in control there?

Derek slid out of Stiles and back in with a flurry of movement, over and over again as soon as the words had left Stiles’ mouth. Stiles tried to time his strokes with Derek’s thrusts, but it was soon useless because the wolf was snapping against him so quickly. Stiles eventually gave up and let his hardness fall against his belly again. Instead, Stiles just grabbed onto Derek’s arms and took it. His dick showed no signs of softening again, even without the extra stimulation. 

Derek was growling and whining and moaning into Stiles’ neck, and he clenched around Derek’s cock as the last of his pain disappeared and left a hot pleasure in its wake.

Everything was perfect.

Then Stiles felt it.

A strange hardness was pressing against Stiles’ hole suddenly and he couldn’t remember when he’d started to feel it exactly, but it was there and every time Derek thrust against him, the thick hardness felt seriously closer to popping inside Stiles and ripping him open. So, Stiles of course had to look down to check it out—

“What the fuck is that?” Stiles hissed, he was already pushing Derek up so he could see for himself. Derek stilled, but not completely. He was still fucking in and out of Stiles shortly and slowly.

Derek followed his gaze and honestly yelped when he saw what Stiles was talking about. Stiles almost laughed, but then Derek was suddenly a flurry of movement on top of him and had pulled completely out of Stiles, and nearly brained himself on the hardwood floor in his haste to get out of the bed.

“Ouch,” Stiles hissed, though it didn’t really hurt. At least not physically, anyway. He glared in Derek’s general direction because the wolf still hadn’t shown his face after his tumble.

Suddenly Derek’s head popped up. The rest of his body was still hidden by the bed frame. His hair was a total mess and he even looked a little winded. And really, Stiles couldn’t stay mad at that.

“What’s wrong, Derek?” Stiles asked. “Did I do something—”

“No!” Derek cut Stiles off. “I mean, no. You didn’t do anything wrong, Stiles, it’s just . . .”

Derek trailed off and looked downward. He glared at something that Stiles still couldn’t see and—

“Holy fucking shit fuck, you have a _knot_ ,” Stiles blurted. And yep, he didn’t even realize he’d said it out loud until Derek broke calm and suddenly looked like he was going to puke all over the floor . . . or possibly die.

“Dude,” Stiles said and he was being one hundred percent sincere, and he knew that Derek could tell. “That is so fucking awesome.”

Derek’s eyes snapped to his and Stiles pointed to his own dick, which was hard as a rock still. It throbbed at the idea, honestly. Then Derek looked down at himself again and eyeballed the presumed knot. God, Stiles couldn’t wait to see it.

“You . . . think?” Derek asked slowly.

“I mean . . .” Stiles started, “you’ve got more experience than me, big guy, but yeah. It sounds pretty awesome.”

“I don’t though,” Derek said through gritted teeth.

“You don’t . . .” Stiles started to ask, “wait, _what_?”

“It’s never . . . done this,” Derek explained vaguely and Stiles’ anger hit him like that bus that ran over Regina George. 

“Jesus F, Derek!” Stiles shouted. “I’m not just some kid that you can bullshit around anymore. I mean, you were literally just fucking me in the ass! I think that I deserve some more explanation than your usual, cryptic ‘just chop it off, Stiles!’ For fuck’s sake, you nodded, damn it! I said the word relationship and you nod—”

“That’s just it,” Derek growled as he flashed burning blue eyes at Stiles and leapt back up onto the bed. “This means . . . this means things, Stiles, and I didn’t think it would just happen . . . I didn’t know it was this . . . instinctual. My mom . . . she never really got to that whole conversation.”

Stiles reached out and grabbed Derek, and pulled at him until he fell forward. The wolf went with it, laying warm and heavy on top of Stiles again.

Stiles gave Derek a big, wet smooch. The biggest one he could manage, because he didn’t know what else to do. Stiles definitely hadn’t planned on their first conversation about Derek’s family to happen in bed, but he was still grateful that Derek finally opened up willingly to him. Okay, Stiles admitted to himself. Maybe not so willingly, per say, but not on threat of death and that felt huge. Stiles thought that he might actually cry for a second. If his dick wasn’t so hard still then he probably would have.

“But—ah—yeah,” Derek said as he ducked down and hid his face against Stiles’ neck, “I’m pretty sure that it’s gonna get, um . . .”

“What was that?” Stiles asked.

Derek murmured into his neck again, but Stiles still couldn’t hear him.

“What? I still couldn’t—”

“Stuck, Stiles,” Derek hissed. “I said stuck.”

Stiles laughed a little and found Derek’s earlobe with his mouth. He sucked and tugged the skin between his teeth before he blindly located Derek’s knot, wrapped a hand around it, and murmured into Derek’s ear, “was counting on it.”

Then Stiles squeezed.

“Ohmygodfuck,” Derek gasped. “Stiles.”

“I’ve read,” Stiles said as he let go and rolled over. Derek yelped and fell backwards as Stiles pushed up onto his hands and knees and stuck his ass out far as he could. “That it’s better like this.”

God, Stiles just technically _pushed_ Derek Hale around. And fuck if that didn't make Stiles hotter than he'd been all day.

“Are you kidding me?” Derek asked, but he was up against Stiles’ backside in no time and palmed at Stiles’ cheeks as he poured some lube into his hole. “You’ve read about knotting?”

“Did you hear my heart stutter?”

“Stiles,” Derek started as he went completely still behind Stiles, even his heavy breathing had stopped completely. “I—you’re—I just—we—I need—I mean, you—”

“I’m perfect, I know,” Stiles said as he wiggled his ass in the air. Derek let out a strangled gasp instead of replenishing his air supply. Stiles might have really been feeling perfect right then, but he was still an asshole. “Now come on and pop that sucker in there.”

Stiles groaned into the mattress as Derek slid in to the base. Well, to the knot, Stiles brain helpfully reminded. Derek then paused to say, “I don’t think . . . it’s just—ah fuck—popping in anywhere.”

“Well, what do you sugg—nughh,” Stiles was cut off as one of Derek’s fingers slid in alongside his cock. “Oh, shit.”

Derek grunted his agreement and started fucking into Stiles slowly. His finger an odd hardness that pressed tightly against Stiles’ wall.

Derek sped up his rhythm and slipped another finger in alongside the first one. Stiles could tell as soon as Derek had started to pull at him. It felt like Derek was trying to rip him open in all directions. He was scissoring his fingers one second, then keeping them together and pulling Stiles apart with them the next second.

It burned and felt uncomfortable as heck for the most part, but Stiles only had to stroke his own cock in time with Derek’s thrusts to stay hard because every so often Derek would catch a certain spot inside him or push a little too deep so that Stiles could feel the knot pressing up against him, and Stiles would preen and mumble nonsense into the sheets.

Stiles was pretty sure that if he got that puppy in there then he would get to keep Derek for the rest of his life. And yeah, sappy as it sounded, Stiles was certain that that was the biggest turn on he’d ever had in his whole entire life. The thought of it had his cock leaking prematurely.

“When—when I get in you,” Derek growled and Stiles didn’t have the brains to look, but it sounded like Derek was a lot more wolf than human by then. “You. Are. Going. To. Shut. Up.”

Derek said each word with a sharp pump and a hard tug at his hole. For emphasis, Stiles figured.

Stiles cried out and pressed back into Derek’s knot as he gasped out, “I wasn’t even—”

“ _You were_ ,” Derek growled, and the words turned into a loud roar as he slammed forward and popped into Stiles' ass.

Stiles cried out and it was mostly from the pain of being so thoroughly stretched, but then Derek pulled out his fingers and it felt so good to get them out, to have his walls pressing down on Derek’s hardness. All thick and hot and smooth inside him. Derek draped himself across his back, and Stiles realized the wolf was shaking and rubbing his hairy face and sharp fangs against Stiles’ neck.

That answered the wolf-y question then.

Derek was rolling his hips and yeah. It really was a pop, Stiles thought. There was no sliding going on. It was in there and staying. Derek’s whole cock felt longer and fuller, but the knot was still such a distinguished pressure right inside his hole.

Stiles was pretty positive he hadn’t said a word that didn’t sound like a broken moan since Derek mounted Stiles—

And fuck. Just when Stiles was sure he couldn’t be turned on anymore. Mounted. Mm. That was hot.

Stiles pressed back into Derek so every inch of the skin on his back was covered by Derek’s hot chest. Derek roared again, this time it sounded much more broke. He snapped his hips even faster. The knot rubbed and pushed along all the spots until Stiles’ vision had faded white around the edges.

Then Stiles felt them. Four little pricks, along with a hot breath that warmed the nape of his neck.

Stiles nodded.

And Derek fucking bit down.

Then all Stiles saw was white hotness as pleasure flooded through him and made him writhe back into to Derek, his ass clenching around Derek hardness.

Stiles came untouched, with a knot in his ass and fangs in his neck.

It was the best fucking orgasm of his life.

Derek bit harder as he shuddered and snapped his hips, spilling his—

And, yep, Stiles realized it a moment late. Derek was literally spilling into Stiles' ass. It felt like Stiles was filling up with warm, wetness inside.

Derek collapsed on top of Stiles after a minute, but Stiles could still feel Derek emptying inside him, so he didn’t say anything until the bite really started to hurt.

“Der,” Stiles gasped out, and yeah, maybe he didn’t realize how crushed he actually was. Derek was a tank. “Can’t breathe.”

Derek hummed into Stiles neck with his teeth still attached and a random shot of pleasure ran down Stiles’ spine. Although, then Derek unlatched his fangs and started licking at Stiles marks as he rolled them over onto their sides. He was careful to wrap his arms around Stiles and kept them close, so his knot wouldn’t tug at Stiles’ tender hole.

Stiles just laid there and basked in it for a little bit. He was content with letting Derek lick at his neck until the pain completely stopped, but then it started to tickle. So Stiles looked over his shoulder and asked, “So . . . how was losing your knot virginity?”

Derek snorted and stopped licking. He leaned forward and rested his chin on Stiles’ shoulder instead. Stiles saw Derek out of the corner of his eye and was surprised to find him completely human again.

Although, he still had Stiles’ blood all over his face, which was . . . kind of cute and surprisingly not creepy at all.

“I literally just filled you up with cum and that’s the first thing you say to me?” Derek asked.

“What?” Stiles asked right back. “Does that not usually happen—”

“Stiles,” Derek growled and Stiles chuckled.

“Okay, okay,” Stiles gave in. “No more knot talk . . . but seriously, how long will we be stuck?”

“Well . . .” Derek started, “if you keep wiggling around like that then probably until tomorrow morning.”

“What!” Stiles yelped. “It’s only like, eleven in the morning now!”

Stiles could feel Derek smiling against his neck and he instantly softened.

“That’s pretty much exactly how I wanted to spend my birthday anyway,” Stiles admitted. “I just thought we could maybe do it a few more times—”

“Oh," Derek cut Stiles off and pulled their bodies even closer as he tangled their legs together. "I already calculated four more in.”

Stiles twisted around and kissed Derek then. They were both smiling against each other’s mouths and there was way too many teeth involved, and Stiles' neck was probably on the verge of snapping in two.

Stiles really didn't care . . .

It was still the best kiss he'd ever had.

**Author's Note:**

> Hm. I wonder what else Stiles said out loud?
> 
>  
> 
> [if you plan on reading this whole series and actually care about canon chronology then you should really click here right now and read over this](http://i-amtheoutlaw.tumblr.com/post/100175173347/in-this-verse)


End file.
